


Wild Chase

by Mephistophilies



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Bisexual Spencer Reid, Bottom Spencer Reid, F/M, M/M, Murder, Pegging, a.k.a stop making the reader skinny blonde white girls <3, more tags tba, second perspective, the reader has a vagina but isn’t explicitly a girl :), the reader has no explicit size, the reader has not explicit race, top reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25541515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mephistophilies/pseuds/Mephistophilies
Summary: When you see Doctor Spencer Reid in a dive bar you’re well aware that you shouldn’t approach him - but you’ve never much cared for right and wrong, and you aren’t going to start now, not when he looks so cute.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Original Male Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 38
Kudos: 99





	1. Cat, meet Mouse.

**Author's Note:**

> Me making a lowkey joking tiktok about making a pegging Spencer Reid fic bc i hate every me and every you:
> 
> me, four days later, after my two videos about it get 5k views altogether and i gain 120 followers from it: well..
> 
> I hope y’all enjoy ;)

You're in a bar when you meet him. 

You know who he is; you've sat in on his lectures before, because knowing the enemy helps avoid the enemy. As he'd said,  _ Serial killers are the best profilers _ , and you're pretty good at what you do.

Spencer Reid isn't the kind of guy you expect at a dingy joint like this. He seems as surprised to find himself there as you are to see him. He cradles his drink like he's unsure if he's allowed to drink it.

If you start by introducing yourself as a fan, he'll feel the need to impress you. If you start as strangers, he'll feel like he can't be himself. There's a comfortable middle that includes using a nerdy philosophy or magic joke.

You sit beside him and his hand tightens around his drink. 

"Hi," you say, setting your drink directly next to his. Reid smiles awkwardly at you. "How many Marxists does it take to change a lightbulb?"

Reid gets visibly excited. His body turns to face you as he waits for the answer. You can't help  the grin that splits your face at how easy it is to win him over.

"None. The lightbulb contains the seed for the revolution." 

Reid laughs, then says, "That's - that's really good. Um, I'm Spencer - Doctor Spencer Reid."

He doesn't extend his hand and you don't extend yours. "It's nice to meet you,  _ Doctor  _ Spencer Reid."

You get to talking - more precisely, Reid gets to talking. He begins ranting about Marxism and how, although it was in good spirit, Communism could never work when put into place.

You get through your drink by the time he notices how long he's been talking. Reid relaxes from his excited pose but his smile holds steady.

"So, doctor, tell me why you're here," You ask, waving your hand at the bar.

Reid glances around, confused by the question, and you explain. "I mean, guys who laugh at jokes about marxism and dress like college professors don't generally hang out in bars like this."

Reid shrugs. His nails tap nervously against his glass. "I don't know. I guess I just wasn't ready to go home yet."

You can understand that; sometimes you're so tired you can't wait to get home and other times it's the last place you'd rather be.

"What - what about you?" Reid asks, gesturing with his drink. You shrug.

"Same as you, mostly. People at these kinds of bars don't really notice you, and it's nice not to be noticed."

Reid nods. "Yeah."

You sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Reid says, "Hey, uh, I never got your name?"

You tilt your head at him, then say, "Give me your phone."

Hesitantly, he hands it over. You open it and type your number in and make the contact name  _ secret admirer _ . You hand the phone back over to him with a wink.

You lean over and press a kiss to his cheek before standing. "Hey, text me, okay? I'm free whenever. Got that,  _ Doctor  _ Reid?"

Reid gapes at you. "Wait, but..."

You're gone before he can finish.

-

Reid calls you the very next day. Most guys have this weird idea that calling too fast makes them look needy or weird, but Reid isn't most guys; he probably doesn't even know about such misconceptions.

"Hi," you say, already knowing who it is despite him never giving you his number - not many had the number to your private cell.

" _ Er, hi _ ," Reid says, sounding tinny from over the phone. " _ Is this- _ ?"

"Yeah," You interrupt, "What can I do for you, doctor?"

Reid is silent for a few moments and you look around the bar you're in, hoping he isn't about to ask you to meet up with him, considering you're currently in West Virginia on a… mission.

" _ I'm sorry if this is weird _ ," Reid says eventually. " _ Can we just… talk _ ?"

You chuckle quietly into the phone. "Yeah, of course. Give me a second to get alone."

You pack up your things, leave a tip for the waitress, and leave the bar. 

"Okay. What's up?" You ask.

" _ Nothing _ ," he says, then, " _ I mean, not  _ nothing _ , but nothing important _ ." He clears his throat. " _ What's, uh, what's up with you _ ?"

You can't help but laugh at his awkwardness. "Sorry, I'm not - I'm not laughing at you, it's just… you're cute."

" _ Oh _ ," Reid says, " _ Thank you _ ."

"Why don't you just tell me what you're doing right now?" You ask. Reid hums.

" _ Paperwork _ ," he says, " _ It's not really that interesting. What about you _ ?"

"I'm talking to you," you answer, "Otherwise, taking a walk."

" _...a walk _ ?" He asks. " _ It's nine in the afternoon _ ."

"Worried, doctor?" You ask. He stammers something of a reply and you laugh. "I'm joking. Don't even humor the thought. I'm  _ very  _ good at defending myself."

" _ Oh, uh, that's-that's good… it's good to be able to, uh, defend yourself. Yeah. _ " 

You do much more than defend yourself, of course.

"Yeah, it makes my hobby of taking long walks at night possible, so I thought it might be good to learn."

Reid laughs. " _ So, um… I was wondering if - if you're not doing anything tomorrow night… _ "

You hum. If you hurry, you could probably get done and be back in D.C by morning. "I'd love to go on a date with you, doctor, but I  _ am  _ currently out of state for work. I can be back in D.C tomorrow, but I'd need to hang up so I can do what I need to do."

" _ Oh, yeah, that's, um, that's fine _ ," Reid says giddily. " _ Okay. Goodnight. _ "

"Goodnight, doctor," you reply, before hanging up the phone. You open up your notepad to find the address of your mission and get in the first taxi you see.

After all, you have a date to get to, and it wouldn't do leaving any evidence for Doctor Reid to find.

-

You're nearly back in D.C when Reid texts you asking where you'd like to have your date.

Instead of texting back, you call him, because you're a responsible driver. You put the phone on speaker and set it on the seat next to you.

" _ Hi _ ," Reid says.

"Hi," you reply, smiling. He always sounds so happy when you call him. "Have you ever been bowling?"

" _ No, actually _ ," Reid replies, " _ But if you - if you want to go bowling I can schedule us to go, if you want. _ "

You laugh. "Yeah, that sounds really fun. Since I picked that, how about you pick where we eat dinner?"

" _ Okay, _ " Reid says. You wish you could see his face. " _ Any specific grievances with any food type _ ?"

"None at all, doctor," you say, "Surprise me? I don't eat out often."

" _ Do you like cooking _ ?" He asks. 

"I guess you could say that," you reply, "I wouldn't mind cooking for you sometime."

Reid is silent for a moment. " _ That sounds… yeah, I'd really like that. _ "

"So would I," you reply, "So, how about eight? Do you want to meet there or can I pick you up?"

" _ We can meet there _ ," Reid says, " _ I'll text you the address. Bye. _ "

"Bye," you reply.

-

You arrive a few minutes after Reid does. He isn't wearing proper bowling attire at  _ all  _ and it's adorable, because he's clearly confused by your own casual attire.

Reid stands when he sees you, wiping his hands off on his thighs. "Hi! You look… nice."

You laugh; you know he's trying to compliment you, even if it sounds like a vague insult. "Thank you. You look very handsome, even if you're wearing slacks in a bowling alley."

Reid's smile looks more like a grimace. "I, uh, I wasn't sure what the proper clothes are for bowling."

"I can tell." You set your bag down on the table and sit down. You look at the screen connected to the alley. "Have you put our names in?"

Reid rubs the back of his neck. "I… didn't know how to use it."

"That's okay," you say, tapping at the screen to add a player. "To be honest, I just kind of guess and hope I'm doing the right thing."

You tap at a few more buttons and after some attempts manage ro register you both in. "You said you've never bowled before? Do you want some rails?"

"No, no, I'm good," Reid says. You eye him suspiciously before shrugging and turning them on for yourself - just because you've gone bowling before doesn't mean you're any good.

"Alright, so here's what you're gonna do…" You reach out for Reid's hand and wait for him to take it before leading him over to the ball racks. "Pick a ball. Make sure it's not too heavy but it can't be too light."

Reid nods before he begins seeking out balls. You go to the opposite side of the ball rack and do the same.

Unfortunately, all the balls are either too big, too small, or too ugly - and yes, the way the ball looks  _ absolutely  _ matters.

Halfway down, you find a very pretty ball with purple, blue, and red swirls, except the second you set your hands on it another pair joins yours.

You look up and see Reid, staring at where your hands touch. Hesitantly, he picks up the ball, and seems happy with the weight.

"Here, let me try," you ask. He hands the ball to you. "Perfect, we can share!"

You had previously set it up so that you would bowl first so you could show Reid the ropes. You make him follow you to the end of the lane and show him how to hold the ball.

"Okay, your middle and ring fingers go here, and your thumb here." Reid does as you tell him too and awkwardly holds the ball. "Okay - okay. So, no-"

You can't help but laugh at him because it's utterly ridiculous that someone could know so much about the philosophical and moral ambiguity of life and not know how to go  _ bowling _ .

He purses his lips and stares at the ball like it's a puzzle and it's absolutely adorable. 

"Okay, here, let me-" you grab the ball from him with a snort and properly hold it. "Watch and learn, sweetcheeks."

You hear him murmur  _ sweetcheeks?  _ as you pull the ball up to your chest, take a few steps, and slide the ball out of your palm. It rolls down the left side of the lane, hits the wall, then goes into the pins and knocks half of them down.

You pull back and smile at Reid, who's staring at the T.V that's playing some weird animation. 

"Is that…" Reid cringes. "Is that necessary?"

You stare at the very gross and unneeded animation for a second before shivering and looking away. "No. Not at all. Hate that. Despise it. Moving on."

You pick up the ball from where it cycled back and once again roll it. You don't hit all the pins, but Reid still claps.

"Thank you, thank you!" You exclaim, bowing. He laughs and claps harder before standing. 

"Okay, so…" He grabs your ball and takes position, copying your exact movements. "Like this?"

"Yes, that's perfect," You say, "Now just pull it back and let it roll off your fingers."

Reid nods, then promptly slips and falls on his ass. You can't help but burst out laughing. 

Bright red, Reid yells at you, "Stop laughing - it's not funny!" Despite his words, he's laughing too. He takes your hand when you offer it and you pull him up.

You hadn't realized Reid was taller than you until this exact moment. He's still laughing, although it's quieting, and his nose is scrunched up in an absolutely adorable way…

You grab the nape of his neck and pull him down into a kiss. It only takes him a moment to realize what's happening, and his hands come up to your face, curling into your hair.

Spencer Reid kisses like a man starved. He grips your head and pulls you in and his lips beg you not to pull away.

You don't  _ want  _ to pull away. When you try to, he tugs you back in, and you have to murmur your reasons against his lips.

"We're…" He interrupts you with another kiss and you laugh. "Doctor, we're in public."

"Call me Spencer," he replies, finally letting you pull away. He smiles brightly down at you, fingers still curled in your hair. 

"Okay," you reply, too astounded by how beautiful he is to say anything more.

-

Your time in the bowling alley ends quickly. You hadn't even finished your game, too distracted by each other to care.

"The restaurant is right down the street," Spencer says, pointing. "I thought, since we drove separately, that'd be easier."

You nod, reaching out your hand for him to hold. "Don't worry, I have a lot of experience fighting off bad guys at night."

Spencer laughs and takes your hand. "My life is in your hands, I guess."

You nod seriously, squeezing his hand and raising it to your lips. "I'll protect you with my life, milord."

Spencer laughs, then begins walking while talking about the origins of the word milord. You wonder where the hell he read about this. 

When you get to the restaurant, the sign on the door says closed. You're worried for a moment until Spencer knocks on the door.

"I, um," he says, blushing. "I called ahead. I've known the owners for a really long time, so it wasn't super-expensive or anything, but I just wanted us to be able to spend time alone without…"

"The added pressure of being in someone else's home? I get it," you say, smiling. "It's very sweet. Thank you."

Spencer nods, and then the door opens. A dark-skinned man greets you with a broad grin.

"Hey, Reid!" He says, "You must be the special someone, huh? My name's Henry. Come on in, we've got a table prepared and everything."

Henry leads you both inside the restaurant - it's actually a beautiful establishment. You wonder how long Spencer has known Henry for him to convince the man to close a clearly successful restaurant.

Henry leads you to a table right in front of a window. The moonlight shines on the table rather than a lightbulb, and with the candle it makes it look like something out of a romance novel. 

It probably is, actually, knowing Spencer. Still, it's beautiful, and the sweetest thing a man has ever done for you.

Henry leaves you both alone once you sit down and order drinks, and you tell Spencer as much.

"I've never been on a real date before," Spencer explains. "I mean, I've been on dates, but never to a restaurant. In case it wasn't obvious."

You laugh. "It was kind of obvious. You got the idea from a book?"

Spencer ducks his head down. "Yeah. Was it that obvious?"

"Only a little." You touch his hand where it rests on the table. "But it's very sweet. And beautiful. Thank you for doing this."

Spencer's eyes rise off the table. "Of course. Thank you. For coming. Thank you for coming, I mean."

"Of course," you copy, winking. "I realized we haven't actually told each other much about ourselves. What do you do for work?"

You already know the answer, but he doesn't need to know that.

"Oh, I'm an agent at Quantico. I work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the F.B.I."

"Wow, really?" You ask, grinning. "Can I-"

Spencer already has his badge out before you can finish. He flashes it and you whistle.

"Whew, you're the real deal, huh? I guess you never needed protecting." You feign a sad look. "This poor knight will have to seek compensation elsewhere."

Spencer laughs. "No, no, I could always use a big, strong knight at my side. You never know who could be lurking around the corner."

"Spencer, you're literally like, a foot taller than me," you chuckle, "I don't think 'big' is a good descriptor for me… strong on the other hand…"

You flex your biceps jokingly. You  _ are  _ pretty strong, but it doesn't show through on your arms. Spencer reaches out and wraps a hand around your bicep. He whistles.

"Yep, very strong. I was right." He pulls away, grinning. "Think you're still up for the job even though I'm a big, bad F.B.I agent?"

"I'll always be up for the job, milord," you reply. Spencer's grins widens. He tucks a strand of hair behind his face before leaning back in his chair.

Henry comes back out with your drinks, winks at you both, gets your food order, and leaves again.

"What do you do?" Spencer asks. You blink at him and he asks again.

"Oh! Sorry. I'm sort of a freelance photographer?" It isn't a lie. Most clients like photographic proof that the man who hurt them is dead. "I go out of state a lot for my work…. Is that going to be an issue?"

Spencer shakes his head quickly. "No - no, that's perfect, actually. I go out of state pretty frequently, too."

You tilt your head. "Really? I don't know a lot about the B.A.U, but I thought you guys mainly worked on cold cases."

"We do that too." He nods. "But once a week we'll take on serial cases that are federal or are requested by police departments."

"Oh, wow, that's really cool," you say, not acknowledging to yourself that you are, technically, a serial killer, and that it's Spencer's job to catch you. "Do you do a lot of field work?"

"I only go in when I need to. I'm the team's main source for geological profiles and general information, because of my memory. It's part of why I got to join the team at such a young age."

You nod. You hadn't been worried - Spencer can take care of himself - but it helps either way to know whether or not Spencer goes on the field.

The food is delicious, and the rest of the date is amazing. It's hands down the best date you've ever been on; you can't tell if it's because Spencer is with you or because Spencer planned it. 

Probably both, but still.

Spencer walks you to your car, waves an awkward goodbye, but before he can walk away you pull him back into a kiss.

Just like your first kiss with him, he curls into you, pushing every bit of himself that he can against you. You chuckle into his mouth and push him back so his back is against your car, and you finally pull away once he's there.

Spencer's hands don't leave your hair, but his thumb rubs circles behind your ear, comforting and sweet, and you give him one last kiss.

"Something to remember me by," You whisper, "Goodnight, Spencer."

Spencer gulps, then nods. He peels himself off your car and begins to walk away. Halfway to his own car, he jerks around. "Oh, um, wait, can I have your name now?"

"It's a secret!" You shout back. " _ Goodnight,  _ Spencer!"


	2. pinball wizard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HHHH sorry this took so long yall have no idea how hard it is for me to write multichapter fics

You realized a long time ago that these men - the kind that are getting what they deserve - don't understand why you're killing them.

A lot of the time, they beg you not to do it, to stop, but most of those pleas fall on deaf ears. Sometimes, they try to explain that she deserved it - those ones underestimate you.

Thankfully, when Spencer calls you, the man is already dead. 

"Hi," You say, gently attempting to tug the pocket-knife out of the man's throat. 

"Hi," Spencer replies, "Where are you right now?"

You glance around the dirty Philadelphia apartment. "...Philly?"

Spencer makes a disappointed noise. "Oh."

You stare at the dead body for a moment, debating how long it would take you to clean up, before replying. "Miss me?"

"I mean-" Spencer clears his throat. "I was, um, just thinking we could go on another date. Soon."

"Soon?" You ask, walking into the small, even dirtier bathroom and turning on the sink. You push the knife underneath the faucet. "What do you mean by soon?"

"Like, um…" he pauses for a moment and you hear the ruffling of papers. "Wednesday?"

You hum - It's Sunday right now, that's more than enough time. "That's good with me. How about you take me up on the offer of a home cooked meal?"

You wipe the knife off with a biodegradable tissue and close it. 

"Uh, yeah, I'd really like that," Spencer replies. "Can I have your name yet?"

"Nope." You hang up.

-

Wednesday couldn't come quick enough. In preparation for Spencer, you cleaned your entire apartment, perfected your recipe, and bought a very nice smelling candle.

You've just finished cooking when Spencer buzzes in, clean-shaven and cute.

"Hi," You say, kissing his cheek and letting him in. Spencer smiles shyly at you and both of his hands go to the strap of his messenger bag. "Here, let me take that?"

He willingly hands it over and you set it on the coffee table before leading him into the kitchen. 

"Here, sit down," You say, pointing toward the dining table. Spencer glances at it then back at you.

"Are you sure? I can help." 

You shake your head, but smile. "Thank you, but don't worry about it. The food's done already."

Spencer nods and sits down while you go back into the kitchen and grab the prepared plates of food. 

Dinner is a quick, concise occurrence. You both eat with only occasional words shared in between you and it's - comforting. To know that you can enjoy each other's presence without words.

When you're finished, and he's helping you do the dishes, he finally speaks, and you can tell it's something that's been weighing on his mind.

"Um, so…" Spencer sets down the dish he was drying and runs a hand through his hair. "I-I know we've spoken about this before, but I just… I really feel like we should talk about my work."

You tilt your head, setting down your own dish. "What do you mean?"

"Well, with my job, we travel a lot - I know I've already told you this, but I need you to understand that… my job means a lot to me." Spencer visibly takes a deep breath, as if prepared for you to be upset with him. "I'm not willing to quit it. At least not for a very long time. And I do understand that you wouldn't want to be with someone like that. Who can't be around a lot. My job is my priority, and it's - I completely accept if you're not okay with that."

Spencer avoids your eyes. His hands tense, relax, then he clenches them together. 

"Spencer," you say, softly. He looks up at you - you've never seen someone who more definitively represents the term 'puppy-dog eyes' - and it nearly breaks your heart because this has to be a conversation he's had before, with past partners.

You didn't need Spencer to tell you for you to know that the B.A.U always will come first for him. You've come to terms with that, because you consider your work in the same way. 

At his lecture, Spencer had said that the B.A.U knew serial killers at an intimate level. That they understood them more than anyone else. 

Spencer would understand why you need to do what you do.

That's part of what drew you to Spencer in the first place. The fact that he could understand you. He might not agree with you, or how you go about what you do, but he'd understand.

"Spencer," you say again, trying to get the words right. You take his hand. "I understand. My job comes first for me too. It's my passion. Just like the B.A.U is yours."

Spencer nods. His face relaxes slightly at your words, and he picks up a new dish. Gently, you pull it from his hand and set it down.

"You've been pretty stressed about this," you state. Spencer nods again. "You know, I'm pretty good at shoulder massages. I've heard they're a great destressor."

Spencers laughs, clearly baffled by your offer. "You don't have to do that."

"No, it's fine, I like doing it," you say, "Here. Come with me to the couch."

Hesitantly, Spencer follows you. He sits on the couch and you move to stand behind him.

"Are you okay taking your shirt off? Not all the way, just off your shoulders."

Spencer turns his head to look at you and shrugs. "Yeah, that's fine."

Spencer unbuttons his shirt and pulls it off his shoulders, revealing his skin to you. 

Slowly, you put your hands on his shoulders. His skin is soft and warm against yours, and you try not to count the freckles on his shoulders.

For the most part, he's quiet. Spencer's shoulders slowly relax the longer you touch him, until he's putty in your hands.

You lean forward and press a small kiss to the nape of his neck, and it's against his skin that you tell him your name.

"What?" He asks, surprised. You laugh and pull away before repeating yourself. Spencer turns his head to look at you, lips curled into a grin.

You wink at him and bend down to kiss him. Immediately, his hands come to your head, thumbs pressed against your cheekbones. He pulls you down farther into the kiss, until you inevitably attempt to add tongue.

Spencer pulls away, face flushed and lips wet and red. He stares at you, eyes brimming with excitement, and yet he also looks apologetic.

"Now yet?" You ask. Spencer shakes his head.

"No, I'm sorry - I'm new to all of this, and-"

"You don't have to apologize." You smile softly at him. "We can go as slow or as fast as you want, Spencer."

Spencer relaxes, nodding his head. "Okay. Thank you."

"Of course," you reply. "Even if it never happens, that's fine. You don't have to pretend for me."

"No, no, it's - it's not that. I want to. But I'm not…. Ready to?" Spencer's eyebrows furrow. "I can't explain it."

"That's okay," you say, reaching a hand up to gently tug it through his soft hair. "You don't have to explain why you're not ready. I understand. Take as long as you need."

Spencer's eyes close as he concentrates on your hand. He leans into the touch, sighing softly. You kiss his forehead before pulling away completely.

"Are you ready for cuddling, though? Because I'm totally down for that."

-

Spencer spends the night. You don't do anything, because he isn't ready, but just being in his presence is enough for you.

He'd apparently prepared ahead in case he spent the night - he blushes and explains that he wasn't expecting anything and you have to remind him that he's the one who stopped you both from going further. (Not that you're complaining, but he really needs to think better of himself.)

It's awkward at first, when you lie down. You're facing each other and just a few inches apart. You can feel his breath on your face and it's kind of uncomfortable.

You sigh after five minutes. "Alright, come here," you say, opening your arms.

Spencer is unsure for a moment before he shuffles forward. He wraps his arms around your waist and tucks his head into your neck. His whole body curls into your arms. It's kind of adorable how he's so receptive to your touch.

You chuckle quietly and wrap your arms around his neck. You set your chin on top of his head. His breath is gentle against your neck, and it's comforting rather than ticklish.

You fall asleep faster than you have in years. You're pretty sure Spencer does too.

-

Alarms are very rude awakenings when you don't expect them. Especially when said alarms are phones ringing at six in the morning, and when the owner of said phone jumps out of his skin at the sound then rushes to grab it.

"Hello?" Spencer says, voice hoarse. You want to glare at him for waking you up but he has a little red spot on the side of his face, and his hair's a mess, and you think it would be a crime to yell at something so adorable. "Okay. I'll be there soon."

Spencer hangs up the phone and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath and looks at you. "Work," he says.

"Okay," you say. You lean forward and kiss his cheek. "I understand. Go ahead and use my shower if you have time."

Spencer purses his lips and smiles before crawling out the bed. He grabs his bag before running into the bathroom. The shower is on not long after.

Spencer kisses you goodbye. You miss the warmth of his body against you, but manage to get back to sleep, somehow. 

-

For once, you call Spencer first. You miss seeing him, plus you've been pretty bored recently.

You set up to meet at the bowling alley from your first date. It turns out Spencer has grown to enjoy bowling, which isn't that surprising, even if he sucks at it.

You meet Spencer outside and the first thing he does is kiss you. It's only a peck, but it makes your insides light up like fireworks because you know he doesn't initiate touch that often.

When he pulls away he clasps his hands awkwardly in front of himself and says, "Hi."

"Hi," you say back giddily. 

You make your way inside and Spencer gets both of your bowling shoes while you pay - he had last time, so it was only fair.

However, instead of bowling like last time, you have a different idea. You grab his hand and tug him toward the back of the building, where a small, empty arcade sits.

Most of the machines are blaring retro music - the few that aren't are broken. Blacklights flicker on the ceiling and light up a dirty carpet.

It isn't the nicest arcade you've ever been in, but it's private.

"Wow," Spencer says, chuckling. "I haven't been in an arcade since I was a kid."

He runs his finger along the dusty dashboard of a broken Pac-Man game and grimaces when his finger comes back dirty.

You whistle. "Live a little, Spencer. Sometimes the best coping mechanism for life is a shitty arcade game." You take his hand and wipe his finger off on your shirt.

"I can't really play arcade games. It's why I stopped coming to arcades; once you figure out the patterns, it gets boring."

You scoff out a laugh. "Only you would do that. However, luckily, there are games that are purely skill and luck."

You point toward the very back of the arcade where a KISS pinball machine is lit up. It's the only thing that seems to work in that part of the arcade, and the lights on the side cast a lonely glow on the other broken machines.

Spencer laughs. "Pinball?"

You nod. "Pinball. We'll make it a competition, since you're so good at arcade games."

"Well, what do I get if I win?" Spencer asks. He's being completely serious, but it could be flirting if you reach.

You raise an eyebrow at him, smirking. "What makes you think you'll win?"

That seems to bring out his competitive side. He grins at you and starts walking over to the machine. You follow, only a few steps behind, digging in your pockets for the quarters you brought.

You push one into the machine and say, "You first."

Spencer glares at you and slaps his hands on the sides of the game, pressing the buttons and keeping the ball up.

It doesn't take long for him to win - a tinny version of Rock and Roll All Night plays loudly from the game's speakers. 

Spencer grins at you. His face is lit up by the golden light of the game's screen and he looks so cute. Sadly, you have to beat him, but if you didn't you would totally be kissing him right now.

You hip check him out of the way and slide another coin in. The game restarts and you move to keep the ball safe. However, sadly, you lose, and the ball drops into the bottom with a disappointing ding.

The game powers down with a loud YOU LOSE from what should be Gene Simmons but sounds more like Adam Sandler. 

You glare at the screen and turn to Spencer. "One more round."

Spencer laughs, but takes your place in front of the game. "I didn't peg you for a sore loser."

You don't grant that a response. Once again, Spencer wins, except this time you don't force him out of the way.

Instead, you move behind him and grab his arms, flipping him so he faces you.

"What…?" He stutters, face flushing a wonderful tone of red as you push your body against his. 

You enter another coin, and with your hands moved to the buttons Spencer is trapped.

"Kiss me," you say. Spencer doesn't hesitate. He leans down and devours you into a kiss, hands gripping your hair like a lifeline.

He makes a noise, soft and sweet, when you press your tongue to his lips. Hesitantly he lets you in and you're granted access to his mouth. You press your tongue against his and he makes a louder noise, tilting his head into the kiss.

Just as he's moved closer, tongue starting to move against yours, the game interrupts you with a loud guitar strum and the same Adam-Gene voice screaming, YOU ROCK!

Spencer pulls away with a wet smack and turns his head to look at the game. He gapes, seeing your score had beat his, and then turns back to you.

"You hustled me!" He says, gobsmacked. You laugh and pull away. 

"No, I won. It just so happens I play better when I'm distracted."

Spencer shakes his head, but a smile tugs at the edges of his lips. "I guess you did win. So, what's your prize?"

You're both grinning when you push him back up against the machine. "I already got it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can u tell ive never won a game of pinball in my life 😼

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter coming soon :)


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